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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259946">Of The Flesh</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_Transmission/pseuds/End_Transmission'>End_Transmission</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Five Nights at Freddy's</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Bunny Call Spoilers, Cannibalism, Disembowelment, Fazbear Frights Spoilers, Five Nights At Freddys: Fazbear Frights: Bunny Call, In The Flesh Spoilers, Possession</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:08:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_Transmission/pseuds/End_Transmission</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt deals with the aftermath of his incredible and unbelievable situation. As it turns out, the arrival of his new companion is only the beginning. (Note: Major Spoilers for 'In The Flesh,' from the Fazbear Frights Book #5: Bunny Call. Summary kept vague to prevent spoilers in summary.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of The Flesh</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Apologies everyone for the long, unplanned hiatus - I hit a major, major wall when it comes to writing. I'm still trying to work through it, and I'm uncertain when the next chapters of Catalyst will be out. However, I've finally gotten something finished - to those who've read my works, I apologize that this is the first thing you see after a long silence. </p>
<p>On that note, PLEASE pay special attention to these notes:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>NOTE 1: This story contains !-MAJOR-! spoilers for the Fazbear Frights book #5: Bunny Call. If you are trying to avoid spoilers for this book, please avoid this story until you've had a chance to read it. If you are choosing to continue on, please scroll down a little ways for an important NOTE/CONTENT WARNING below. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>NOTE 2: This story contains graphic descriptions of blood, gore, and cannibalism/borderline Auto-cannibalism. If these topics are disturbing, traumatizing, or triggering to you in a way that will do you more harm than good, please do not continue on. I also highly, highly recommend against reading if you are a minor. </p>
<p>To be clear, these are simply ideas that I found interesting. I've not played much in the way of graphic body horror, but I wanted to give it a try. Also, 'In The Flesh,' was just so disturbingly horrifying and fascinating that I wanted to try writing what I saw as the reasonable conclusion/continuation of the story. </p>
<p>Also, yes, I know it was very clearly Springtrap in the canon story - but the description and the way the creature formed made me associate the story so strongly with Malhare, I just had to try it out.</p>
<p>Okay, enough exposition from me. If you are continuing on, I hope you enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Matt woke from his nightmare with a half-strangled scream. Immediately, he laid his hand against his heart and strained to listen as it pounded in his ears. The brief silences in between the beats of his heart were filled with the sound of his quick, shallow breathing. All the while, memories of the dream played over and over in his mind. The knife, the pain, <em> Springtrap.  </em></p>
<p>
  <em> "Daddy." </em>
</p>
<p>Whimpering, Matt pushed a hand against the tile below him and got to his feet - realizing only once there what he'd just done. He wasn't getting up from bed - he was standing up from the floor. The tiled floor of his kitchen - the same floor he'd laid out on as he cut himself open. The same floor where the rabbit had caressed his head in its lap. </p>
<p><em> In the dream, </em> he quickly reminded himself. Because it'd been a dream - a strange, long, involved dream. When, he wondered a bit dazedly, was the last time he'd watched <em> Aliens?  </em></p>
<p>On a whim, Matt looked down, and his certainty that it <em> had </em> been a dream vanished. There, lying on the floor less than a foot away, was his own body. It stared sightless towards the ceiling, a grotesquely calm smile on its face. Just as in his dream - <em> not a dream, not a dream, it hadn't been a dream </em>- the torso of the corpse was split wide. Viscera hung from it in rope-like piles, while the blood and mucus that had spilled from it pooled beneath - swamping the carcass in what was left of its own bodily fluids. </p>
<p>There was a thick swath of blood that started at the corpse's cheek, traveled up its forehead, and painted its hair. With a shudder, Matt backed away, then turned and rapidly looked around him. Springtrap had made that mark - must have left the blood when he'd caressed Matt's head. So where had the rabbit gone, then? He wasn't in immediate sight. Matt looked down again at his body - if there had been footprints, the blood had grown thick enough to wash them away. None seemed to lead away from the body, either. At least, none except - </p>
<p>With a start, Matt realized he wasn't looking down at a human leg, or foot, or <em> body </em> . Back-peddling, he stepped away, further and further from the corpse. He left footprints in his wake - long, misshapen footprints. Exactly what one might expect from the rabbit-like <em> paws </em>at the end of Matt's legs. </p>
<p>With quick breaths, Matt brought his hands up to look at them - only to find they weren't <em> his </em> hands, either. They weren't paws like his feet, but the fingers were long and the shape was <em> wrong </em>and above all else they were green. Not just green, but a multitude of greens and yellows and reds, withered away with time and neglect and painted in the remnants of Matt's own gore. </p>
<p>He was looking at Springtrap's fingers. He was <em> moving </em>Springtrap's fingers - just as if they were his own. He was stepping with Springtrap's feet, looking through Springtrap's eyes - the truth was as undeniable as his own corpse on the floor two feet away. </p>
<p>Matt <em> was </em> Springtrap. The same one, he knew instinctively, that'd burst from his torso like a - well. Like a chestburster. Somehow his awareness, his sentience, his very <em> self </em>had jumped ship from the decimated body into the closest vessel it could find. Which was, apparently, the rabbit. Nevermind that the rabbit had been the size of an infant, at first - in the incalculable span of time between Matt passing out and then waking again, the rabbit must have grown. Now it was person sized. Matt sized. </p>
<p>With a noise not unlike a whine, Matt turned and all but sprinted away from the scene in his kitchen. It surprised him, when he came to a gasping stop in his bathroom, that he <em> could </em>sprint. Springtrap had been sneaky and quick, yes, but even at his fastest his movements had been halting and awkward. Matt, however, piloted the body as surely as his own - if anything, it was even more dexterous and quick. When, with a deep breath, Matt stood himself in front of the mirror, he understood why. </p>
<p>As he'd noticed in his dying throes, the Springtrap that had escaped him was not like the Springtrap he'd coded. In fact, the longer he looked at his new body, the less sure he was that the rabbit was Springtrap at all. They shared a feature or two - largely being that they were a rabbit and happened to be a similar shade of grotesque, faded green-yellow. They also, he noticed, shared a propensity for leaking strange fluids - thick, tear-like goop was gathered along the bottom of his eyes. </p>
<p>That was where the similarities stopped. This rabbit didn't look mechanical at all - rather, it looked like a poorly fit suit, though Matt was fairly sure there was no human flesh within the fur. This rabbit was thinner and shorter than Springtrap, with a head that was considerably more ovoidal than the animatronic's. Where Springtrap had a muzzle, this rabbit had a <em> face. </em> Sure, it still had a nose, but the bridge was short, and its mouth was stretched nearly as wide as its head - caught in an eternal grin that Matt couldn't change. Its eyes were perfectly round, almost <em> bulging </em> from its head - and the irises were a soft violet color, a drastic change from the vivid green of Springtrap. </p>
<p>Matt's breath caught in his throat as something about the rabbit began to change. Even as he stared into his own eyes, they began to glow - lighting up in a vivid purple almost too bright to stand. Yet Matt couldn't help but stare, a desperate sort of dread bubbling up as the rabbit, without Matt's own input, raised its hand and waved. </p>
<p>Matt screamed and threw himself back, desperately peddling his arms to keep standing when he began to fall. It was no use - he tumbled into the bathtub behind him, his head smacking against the grab bar. His hands flung out, scattering about shampoo and body wash and a razor that flew out of the tub and clattered against the floor. Finally at a stillness, Matt huffed, something like a sob catching in his breath. </p>
<p>He didn't hurt, he realized - despite how hard he <em> must </em> have hit his head, he didn't even feel winded. Any other time, the realization might have been a relief. In that moment, however, it broke him. It was just one more reminder that he wasn't <em> normal </em>anymore. That he would likely never be normal again - his human life had been left to bleed out on the kitchen floor. A sob caught in Matt's chest, and he lifted his grotesque hands and buried his too-wide face in them. </p>
<p>He tried to cry - he audibly sobbed, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. There were no true tears, however - only that same thick, gelatinous liquid he'd noticed under his eyes. It slipped slowly, heavily down his cheeks and pooled into his gaping, grinning mouth. He hadn't felt pain - but he could <em> taste</em>. It was as if he'd drank lidocaine - the strange liquid was viscous, oddly gritty, and tasted vaguely of salt. It startled him from his sobs, and Matt tried to spit the liquid away. But although he could feel his throat convulsing, neither his tongue nor mouth would move. Desperate, he scrambled until he could angle his head down, and watched as the liquid dripped slowly from his mouth and into the bathtub. </p>
<p>Things blurred together for a long while after that. Matt stopped thinking entirely - simply sat on his knees in the bathtub, staring at the wall in front of him. Every now and then, a wave of near incomprehensible existential terror would shudder through him, causing him to whine or sob or hyperventilate until the feeling passed. </p>
<p>He couldn't have said how long he sat there, but some uncertain time later he was hit by a sudden, physical, and very familiar feeling. Hunger - and not just any hunger. It was the same, all-encompassing hunger that had plagued him in the days leading up to the 'birth.' Matt tried to push it away for as long as he could, but that wasn't an especially long time - a half an hour or so, tops. At least he could say the hunger drove out any and every other thought or concern. It certainly drove him out of the bathtub and back to the kitchen. </p>
<p>Eating mindlessly was a task Matt was very familiar with. He only hoped it could bring him the same comfort as it usually did. </p>
<p>It turned out that eating was quite the chore - Matt's grinning mouth remained immobile, unable to chew or gulp or even mash. Desperation drove him forward, though, and thankfully his throat worked just fine. Eventually, he was swallowing cheese slices, cheerios, two-week old pizza, and anything else he could get his hands on by looking to the sky, shoving the food down his gullet, and then undulating his throat until the food passed. He could only imagine the image - like a strange rabbit-snake hybrid, hell-bent on swallowing its food whole. It was beyond strange - it should have been mortifying and terrifying and a lot of other ‘fying’s. In the moment, though, Matt was just happy to find a way to eat. </p>
<p>He was so hungry. </p>
<p>Matt had all but emptied his fridge and pantry in a blind, berserked feast by the time he realized he <em> still </em> wasn't full. He wasn't even satisfied. Not one of the things he'd shoved down his gaping maw had even touched the insane hunger that was gnawing at his insides. He grabbed the last can of SpaghettiOs he had in his pantry, and didn’t even bother to open them. Instead, he shoved the entire can - metal and all - as deep into his throat as his arm would allow him. He <em> felt </em>the heavy metal travel down his esophagus and hit his stomach with a jolt. </p>
<p>He slipped his arm from his mouth, surprised at just how far in it’d been. There would have been a time, even mere hours ago, when Matt would have grimaced at the slimy saliva that now coated the appendage. Would have felt ill at the way it trailed from his mouth to his arm - the plop as a drop struck the tile below. That, however, was old Matt. New Matt was entranced by the sight - he stared at the slicked fur of his arm, and an idea began to gnaw at his brain until it was impossible to ignore. </p>
<p>Matt turned in place, his long rabbit feet squelching in the blood below him. His old body still laid on the ground, as still and sightless as it had been since Matt woke. With a sudden fervor Matt didn't entirely understand, he fell to his knees and scrambled closer to his body - his furred hands slipping slightly in the gore's slick. Ignoring the sensations, he reached out, picked up the arm of the corpse, and held it up for inspection. </p>
<p>He couldn't <em> bite </em> it - no matter how he tried, his mouth would not move at his command. The entire corpse, meanwhile, was far too big for him to swallow whole. In a flash of inspiration, Matt dug his fingers into the flesh of the arm. He was surprised at how <em> easy </em> it seemed - despite their rather fragile appearance, his grotesquely long fingers were <em> strong. </em>It took no effort at all for him to sink them deep, root them about, and finally pry away a chunk of flesh. He dropped the arm so abruptly that blood splashed up into his face - but he didn't even notice. He stared at his prize and, without any further preamble, stuck it deep into his throat. </p>
<p>The satisfaction was immediate. </p>
<p>It was as if he'd just finished half of the best burger Matt had ever tasted. He wasn't yet full, but he had finally made progress. More than that, it was as if that single bite's worth had chased away every negative feeling Matt had felt in the last few days. There was no more room for fear, or confusion, or existential terror - there was only satisfaction. Finally, he'd found the answer. He would not go hungry any longer. </p>
<p>He feasted on his own corpse until he was full - finishing off all the meat of an arm in the process. In some strange parody of humanity, Matt lifted a furred finger and rubbed it along the edge of a tooth. He stood and stared down at his corpse once more. It hadn't taken much to sate him, but there was no doubt he'd eventually run out. He didn't exactly foresee his situation changing any time soon - his old self was well and truly dead. He was the rabbit now - would probably be the rabbit for the rest of his life. Or, he supposed, his spiritual life. However long that might last.</p>
<p>And the rabbit, clearly, could only be fed with human flesh. It had to be - none of the lunch meat or ground meat Matt had fed himself had worked. Unfortunately, Matt's supply of human flesh was limited. </p>
<p>At the very thought, Matt felt a sudden surge of buzzing in his whiskers. Grimacing, he lifted his hands and laid them against his face, trapping his whiskers beneath. Still they hummed, the feeling traveling down into his teeth. Then, with a spurt of static, he saw a copy of the rabbit form in front of him. Its body - strangely green and digital - glitched and sputtered as it stood and stared at him, its eyes glowing so brightly that it should have hurt to look at. </p>
<p>Just as Matt was considering looking away, the rabbit copy turned his head, then gestured widely for Matt to follow. He turned and pranced away, skipping as Matt dutifully trailed after him. They crossed the kitchen, tracked bloody footsteps through the living room, and finally stopped at the window. </p>
<p>The rabbit gestured outside. Before he could look, Matt's attention was drawn to his own, faded reflection in the window glass. He could see himself - his <em> human </em> self. Alive and whole and decidedly <em> not </em>bloated. Startled, Matt quickly looked down at his hands - only to find that they were still the blood-covered, furred paws of the rabbit. He came quickly to the conclusion that his reflection was some sort of illusion. Why he could see it now, where he'd seen the rabbit before, he couldn't even begin to guess. </p>
<p>Before Matt could think about it more, his whiskers buzzed again and the digital rabbit next to him gave him a look that was somehow both immobile and annoyed. Understanding, Matt turned his attention outward - beyond the glass and to the street below his apartment. There, in the dying light of the evening, was a man. He was jogging down the street, his skin shining in the slick of his sweat. Matt watched the man for a long few seconds, pulled away only when something plopped onto Matt's arm. When he lifted a hand to the corner of his mouth, he found saliva pooled there. </p>
<p><em> "Plenty," </em>a soft voice buzzed in Matt's head. He was nodding before the word was through. Food, he realized in that moment, was not scarce. In fact, there was more of it than he could even dream of. Fresh, alive, and jogging, or sleeping, or doing any number of things right then in that very moment. He was surrounded by food. </p>
<p>"Plenty," Matt agreed, the word feeling strange as it slipped from a heavy tongue and immobile mouth. His whiskers buzzed again, this time with something approaching joy. At the same time, the digital rabbit vanished from sight, and Matt's own reflection glitched and shifted until he could only see the rabbit, once again. </p>
<p>"Plenty," Matt whispered once more, laying a furred hand against his stomach. As if in response, he felt it give a soft rumble. Understanding, Matt turned for the kitchen. It was, it would seem, time for a second course.</p>
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